


20 Gay Teens

by WeWalkADifferentPath



Series: This pride might just keep me warm [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Asexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Derek does too but they're much more confusing, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, Pride, Queer Themes, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Stiles has a lot of feelings, Tags to be added, the poor dude
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeWalkADifferentPath/pseuds/WeWalkADifferentPath
Summary: This will be a collection of one-shots in the same 'verse as the rest of the 'This pride might just keep me warm' series. Chapters will be titled so that you can look for whatever ship or topic you're interested in.First chapter is a snapshot of Derek and Stiles at Pride, as requested!





	20 Gay Teens

**Author's Note:**

> Sup folks, guess who's back. 20gayteen is breaking all the rules. Also, despite the title, none of the characters in this are actually teens anymore, lol. I just couldn't not take the pun, you feel me? But there's no underage Stiles in any of my fics, especially not queer-themed ones.
> 
> I don't think there are any trigger warnings for this chapter. Just the use of the reclaimed word 'queer' as usual. And very brief internalized acephobia/biphobia. 
> 
> These are all going to be written quickly and unbeta-ed, just because I can't help myself but I'm also drowning in my WIP, so please feel free to let me know if you catch mistakes. As usual I welcome criticism on how I'm dealing with the queer themes.

Time seemed to speed up and slow down at will.

The noise, too—it hit Stiles in waves, nearly knocking him down with the force and impact before ebbing away slowly and surely, leaving him with a small space in which to take in a breath before it started all over again.

It was overwhelming—it should have been overwhelming—but Stiles was at peace. 

For two critical reasons. 

The first was choice; Pride had always been wrapped in that concept, inexorably tied to the lack of choice that people like him have had, and the choice that they created within that oppression. The choice to stand. The choice to riot in the loudest, proudest way. Stiles was familiar with the history—and the continuing fight in the present-- and he was honoured to be a part of it. 

Stiles also had a choice. He had chosen to be there. It wasn’t often that he got to decide when he would be overwhelmed or overstimulated, and he certainly didn’t often get to decide the circumstances. The waves were bigger than him by a mile, but he was riding with them, and that was important.

The second reason had to do with the hand on his back, and the laughter near his ear, and the aura of confidence and belonging that surrounded him on all sides.

His pack was here with him. They were doing this together.

The warmth from Derek’s hand was seeping through Stiles’s shirt and heating up his lower back in a way that probably had much more to do with subjective feelings than it did with objective body temperature. Derek’s thumb had managed to slip up and under the bottom of Stiles’s shirt at some point, landing in the sensitive spot between where the fabric ended and his jeans began, right on the skin. It was one tiny point of contact, but it grounded him even as it scorched. Derek had him. Derek was safe. Derek would keep them safe.

Confetti exploded into the air and Stiles turned in time to see Isaac’s smile break out across his face. The beta was probably more anxious than Stiles himself was, but he was staring at everything with fresh, wide eyes, completely enamored by the joy. Derek’s other hand had found its way to Isaac’s shoulder earlier that morning and hadn’t left; not on the train ride over, not when they'd had lunch in the crowded Starbucks before the parade started, and not now.

It was so fucking peaceful. Stiles felt safer than he would have ever imagined he could, in a situation like this.

Which is why, when Erica and Boyd had gotten off the window sill and returned to stand sentry in a loop around Isaac, and when Derek subtly and shyly nudged Stiles's hip with his, Stiles allowed himself to smile, uninhibited and vulnerable, before allowing Derek’s warmth to guide them off to a semi-private corner of the parade. 

The noise dimmed down as they rounded onto the adjacent street, pressing into each other's personal bubbles probably a little more closely than was strictly necessary. Stiles was existing in the space between the _wall of Derek_ and the brick wall at his back. He didn’t feel penned in. 

“Hi,” Derek said. 

“Hi.”

“How are you doing? With all of this?” 

Somehow, when Derek asked, it always sounded genuine. And maybe it was just the lens that Stiles was viewing this whole experience through, but Derek looked achingly honest-- beautiful, too. Even in his plain grey t-shirt. Maybe because of his plain grey t-shirt. Derek had shed his leather jacket and had it tied around his waist like a dad on a camping trip, proudly revealing the bracelets he had looped around each wrist. One for him, one for a friend.

Stiles had some thoughts about who the friend might be, but, well, he wasn’t going to say anything. It wasn’t up to him.

“I’m doing great,” Stiles told him honestly. “This is… it’s a lot, but it’s great.”

Derek nodded. Stiles pretended not to notice how he licked at his already bitten lips, fidgeting with the loose knot where the jacket was tied. 

“How are you doing?” 

Derek definitely seemed nervous, but he wasn’t going to say anything about that either. Contrary to popular belief, Stiles did have tact, thank you.

Derek licked his lip again. “I’m good. I—what you said.”

“Right. It’s gotta be overwhelming to werewolf senses, huh?”

Derek shrugged. “Smells bad,” he said, “and it’s loud. But—“ he faltered, but Stiles was pretty sure he understood where he’d been going with the thought. 

“You never imagined you’d have this.”

Derek examined his shoes. There was clearly a history there, practically etched into the curve of Derek’s shoulders, and it probably wasn’t a history that was all that pleasant, if the pattern of his life was any indication. 

There was a long silence. Stiles was just about to interrupt with a joke, or a comment, or another round of NSYC—something to break the tension—but Derek opened his mouth and Stiles clamped his shut. 

“She told me it was a secret.”

“Kate.” It wasn’t a question. Derek nodded anyways. 

“She told me—“ Derek took a deep breath and released it with a sigh. They were so close that Stiles felt it sweep through the hair over his forehead. “Do you think that someone can feel attraction wrong?”

“No.”

Derek blinked, seeming startled by the speed and intensity of Stiles’s response. “No?”

“No. Did she tell you that bisexuality wasn’t real, or something? Because Derek, anything that that bitch ever told you, anything she ever said—"

He caught the look on Derek’s face and fizzled out, deflating. Apparently whatever rant he’d been about to start was the wrong direction. Derek looked shuttered; his expression had turned stony, and he pulled slightly back, shattering the little space they’d created. Stiles already missed his heat. 

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered, “that was uncalled for. Why do you ask about attraction?”

Derek gazed at him, his widened eyes the only indication that he hadn’t completely shut down. But he didn’t answer.

Following instinct, Stiles stepped forward an inch, giving Derek a minute to step back. When he didn’t, Stiles reached for one of his hands. It felt like his heart was beating in his throat. But it also felt right. 

Derek was safe. Derek had him.

“No matter what you feel,” he whispered, “it’s just perfect. Okay?”

He waited for Derek’s nervous swallow and then placed his hand back down. Just because Stiles—just because Stiles felt certain things, and knew now that Derek was bi, didn’t mean—no. Stiles wouldn’t take advantage. Not of anyone, but not of Derek especially. 

Derek had been taken advantage of enough. 

Besides, Derek didn’t feel that way. That was okay. Stiles would take this, this quietness, this shared vulnerability, this friendship. Pack. He was happy with that. He’d always been happy with that, when he’d thought that Derek was straight. 

Stiles knew how shitty it was to tell someone you were bi and have things change. So nothing would change between him and Derek, not unless he started it.

Derek’s hand twitched where it’d been released and he made a low noise in the back of his throat, one that Stiles had learned to interpret as ‘I want to say something but I don’t know where to start.’ 

He smiled in a way that he hoped was encouraging and settled in to wait for Derek to collect his thoughts. 

In lieu of words, though, Derek lifted a hand to his own cheek. Eyes on Stiles, he trailed a slow line along it with his index finger, up one side, over his nose, and across the other side. 

It was a mirror. Of Stiles’s face, where the glitter was. Message received.

The face paint was still in his pocket and he pulled it out, trying to keep his reaction minimal and nonthreatening. This was kind of a huge deal, but Derek was skittish, and if he changed his mind he should be able to back out without feeling like he’d disappointed someone. 

Stiles held out the face paint, but Derek didn’t take it. 

“Don’t you-?” Stiles squinted. Maybe he’d gotten it wrong?

But Derek just cleared his throat. “I was hoping you would.”

“Oh.”

Shit.

That was—

Was the universe manifesting his wet dreams right now? Actually, not even his wet dreams, just his regular, innocent ones. As much as Stiles wanted to keep his feelings close to his chest, he wasn’t an idiot and he wasn’t in denial. Touching Derek’s face to do something so intimate wasn’t an objectively big deal maybe, but. It still felt like a lot. It was a lot.

It was a sign of trust from Derek. For that reason, Stiles actually debated it for a second, wondering if it would be a betrayal to agree when it would mean more to him than it would to Derek. But surly werewolf senses could already pick up on his hammering heart? Surely Derek could already smell his arousal, when they were together? He was still inviting this. For whatever reason, he seemed okay with Stiles’s feelings.

So Stiles moved carefully. He unclipped the lid and wiped a little streak of the glitter onto his thumb. Then he held his breath. Derek seemed to be holding his too and Stiles reached up and gently, gently, wiped his thumb across Derek’s left cheekbone. 

“How’s that?” he asked, ignoring how his voice cracked. “It could be accidental, but you’ll know that it wasn’t.”

Derek’s answering smile was grateful. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah that’s perfect.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer. Then Derek stepped all the way back, and the moment was broken. (No, not a moment—only a moment for Stiles. Doesn’t count if it’s in his head).

“Should we go back?” Derek asked. “I want to keep an eye on Isaac.”

Of course he did. Of course he wanted to care for his pack, because he was an amazing pack member. 

So Stiles nodded. He wasn’t blushing, he definitely wasn’t. But then Derek’s hand was back on his lower back and he was so, so blushing. Terrible. Derek was the worst. 

“Thank you,” Derek said, as he led them back toward the group. The others didn’t even glance over as they walked back, which was one small blessing, because he didn't want to deal with their teasing right now and they would have noticed Stiles’s nerves if they’d looked. He was sure it was written all over his face. 

“Any time,” Stiles responded. He meant it. 

“You too. Just so you know.”

Yeah, Stiles knew.

Then the confetti exploded over their heads again, and the wave of noise drowned out everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr @wewalkadifferentpath or twitter at @adifferentpath . keep on keeping on, fam.


End file.
